Those Three Little Words
by mangotango101
Summary: Some things are better left unsaid. Some things are never meant to be said. But not this. They both have their own Three Little Words. They both have their own secrets.
1. Kate

**Hey, so this is the other story I've been working on that's been floating around my head since the premiere. It's a different style than Diving in Together, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: This is not mine. Anything recognizable belong to AWM and ABC. This is purely for entertainment purposes. NO copyright infringement is intended.**

**Those Three Little Words  
><strong>**Chapter 1: Kate**

* * *

><p>All I can hear are the birds chirping away outside. Well, that and my own thoughts whirring away inside my brain. As someone who is used to running around like a maniac on little food and even less sleep, I'm getting restless. It's nice to be with my dad; after mom died, we don't spend nearly enough time together. But being cooped up for a month is already making me go stir-crazy. I've been here ever since I was released from the hospital.<p>

My chest still has a dull ache to it, but it is nothing like it was that moment when my partner – my friend – walked out on me. Sure, I told him that I would call him, but I didn't expect him to walk away so easily. I expected him to fight for me.

My thoughts stray to where they go so often these days. Any time my father leaves me alone – longer and longer as the days passed – I am brought back to that day. Every time I close my eyes, I see his face. The man who was like a father to me. The man who betrayed me.

But every time my eyes are open, I am assaulted with memories, some good and some bad, but the one that I revisit the most is the one that I wish that I could erase forever.

* * *

><p>"<em>You don't remember…the gun shot?"Castle asked, his pause giving everything away. I wanted nothing more to say 'Yes,' but I knew that I couldn't. I had already gotten myself into this lie, and I wasn't going to back out. Not now. Not after I told him that I don't remember much of anything. There was only one way to go.<em>

"_No," I said, my heart breaking. I've always thought that his eyes were expressive, but it wasn't until I say that flicker of hope die in his blue eyes that I realized just how much he shared with one glance. During the long pause, I had seen it in his eyes…the question that he really wanted to ask me. I felt it in my eyes – begging him to say it, so I wouldn't have to be the same one. "They say there are some things that are better not being remembered."_

_That was a low blow, even for me. But it had to be said. I knew that Castle would be coming the moment he heard I was awake, and I knew what I was getting myself into. I decided it long before he entered the ICU. But I had a moment of doubt, when he first walked in. How scared he looked, yet so happy. There was a split second where I didn't think I could go through with it. A moment where I thought I truly would tell him that I remembered everything._

_Josh's kiss brought me back to my senses. He saved my life. He broke the law to keep me alive. And no one could compete with that. At least, that's what I tried to convince myself of._

_I pushed the conversation further into a realm that I don't want to enter. I was setting him up, but he didn't know that. He just thought I was being vulnerable. Another moment of shattered hope for him. But my plan was meticulous – lead him into a conversation that I could easily back out of and cut off any communication until I could put all of it behind me._

"_Kate—"_

"_Castle," I interrupted him, knowing this was the moment. It was now or never. "I'm really tired right now."_

_I could see the disappointment and annoyance in his eyes, but I didn't let him know how I felt. I used the poker face I had perfected over the years and used the guise of being drugged to get him to leave._

"'_Course," he said, getting up from his chair. "'Course. We'll talk tomorrow."_

_Now or never._

"_Do you mind if we don't?" There is was. There was no going back. "I just need a little bit of time."_

"_Sure," he said, still hoping I meant a couple of hours. "Sure. How much time?"_

"_I'll call you, okay?" I asked, lifting my eyes to his._

"_Sure," he said again, moving towards the door. I wanted to call him back. I wanted more than anything to say, 'Castle, wait. I remember everything.' He would come back to my bed, and even though I looked awful, he would tenderly take my face in those big hands of his and he'd kiss me gently on the lips, reminding me of that kiss we shared outside of the warehouse months ago. But I couldn't. I'd already closed that door. I knew that I wouldn't talk to him again until I solved my mother's murder. Then, maybe then, I'd heal enough to see if he was still waiting. _

_He looked back once more, memorizing my face. I heard the door shut and I slowly closed my eyes. The magnitude of what I had just done hit me full on. The dull ache in my chest that was being muted by morphine was replaced with a pain that I hadn't felt in twelve years. The pain of my heart being ripped from my chest and torn into pieces._

* * *

><p>The ache of the bullet wound has since nearly dissipated, but there is still that jagged hole from when I shut him out of my life.<p>

I'm pulled from my thoughts when my father enters my room with a tray full of eggs, toast, and milk. Nothing acidic. No coffee.

"You hungry, Katie?" he asks, placing the tray over my lap.

"Dad, I can get up to go to the kitchen, you know," I tell him. I'm tired of being waited on hand and foot. There is nothing I want more than to be able to call up my favorite Chinese restaurant, and have them deliver my favorite dish. Nothing.

"It's only the morning, Katie. You should save up your strength for a short walk later."

I sigh, knowing I've lost this battle. I pick up a fork and put a miniscule bite of eggs in my mouth. They're light and fluffy, just the way I like them.

"Good girl," my dad says, and I'm suddenly brought back to a memory in such a distant past, that I almost forgot about it.

* * *

><p>"<em>Good morning, Katie Bug," my dad said cheerily, coming into my room. "Time for school."<em>

_I rolled over and felt my head pound. I could hardly move a muscle, let alone think about going to school._

"_Katie?" my dad asked again. I usually got out of bed the moment he began talking, so he must have known something was wrong. I heard him walk over my bed and he pulled back the covers slightly. I shivered and whimpered in protest. He laid a cool hand on my forehead and it felt wonderful. "Katie, you're burning up."_

_I groaned and pulled the covers back over my head. I could tell he was going to the bathroom to get the thermometer, and possibly my mom. She was usually better in situations like these than he was._

"_So Katie, I hear you're sick," came my mom's voice. I tried to answer her, but my throat was on fire. "It's okay, sweetie, mommy's here."_

_I gathered my strength to send her a withering glare. I hadn't called her mommy in years. I was eight years old. A big girl. I didn't need to call her mommy. She was mom, ma, or mother, depending on my mood. _

"_Right, sorry," she said, holding up her hands, feigning innocence. "Stick this in and don't move," she said, gently placing the thermometer in my mouth. It felt like a stick of ice, compared to my burning mouth. She sat with me and stroked the hair from my sweaty forehead while she waited for the mercury to settle._

_After a couple minutes – what felt like the longest minutes ever – she pulled the stick from my mouth and tilted it until she could see the read out._

"_Well, well, my darling, looks like someone here has gotten herself sick. You, young lady, have a fever of one-oh-two point nine."_

_I couldn't even answer her._

"_Don't worry, I'll bring you some Tylenol. Let me just call the firm and let them know that I won't be coming in today," she said, getting up from my bed._

"_No," I croaked. I didn't want her to miss work because of me._

"_Katie, I'm not going to let you here alone with your father. Maybe tomorrow when the worst is over."_

"_Gee, great to know you have such faith in me, Jo," my father said from the door, chuckling. He was holding the bottle of Children's Tylenol and my favorite cup with water._

_My mother rolled her eyes and went to my dad. "I know you're perfectly competent, but…" she trailed off._

"_I'm just kidding," dad said, laughing. "I know you'd feel better if I were here. Go call your firm; I'll give Katie her medicine."_

"_Thanks, Jim."_

_My mom walked out of the room and my dad came to kneel by my bedside. He gently lifted me into a semi-sitting position so I could swallow the medicine._

"_Does it have to be liquid?" I asked faintly. I hated the taste. It made me gag._

"_Can you swallow a pill?"_

"_Of course I can, daddy, I'm eight."_

"_Are you sure you want to try the grown up pills?"_

"_Yes," I said, wanting to do everything in my power not to have to swallow the thick liquid._

"_Why don't I cut up some chewables and you can practice on those," my dad suggested, pulling out the box from his pocket._

"_Did you know I was going to ask?" I demanded._

"_Katie Bug, you're a big girl, and I knew you'd ask sooner or later. So, look what else I brought."_

_He pulled out a pill cutter and showed me how it worked. He cut the first chewable into quarters and handed me the small box and another pink colored pill. "Here, you try."_

_I __took __the __medicine __in __my __small __hands __and __pushed __down. __I __felt __a __satisfying _snap _as __the __pill __broke._

"_Once more," he prompted. I repeated my motions and lifted the cover. I dumped the quartered disks as well as a considerable about of pink powder onto my dad's hands and he held up the glass of water. "Take one, and put it on your tongue. Take a sip of water and swallow normally," he instructed._

_I took the first small piece and set it on the middle of my tongue. I took a sip of water and swallowed. The pill got stuck on my tongue and didn't move. I scraped at it with my teeth and tried again. It went down, but I coughed at the strange sensation, so it came back up._

"_Ew," I said, spitting out the soggy pill onto my dad's open palm. "That was icky."_

_My dad was making a face at the slimy blob of pink on his palm, but laughed. "It's okay, Katie. No one gets it on their first try. Here, take another one."_

_I tried again and this time I still had to scrape with my teeth, but it went down. "I did it, Daddy! I did it!"_

"_I know, Katie. I'm so proud of you. Now see if you can try without having it get stuck on your tongue."_

_I took another quarter and tried once more. This time it went down without any problems. I swallowed and smiled brightly. "No problems, Daddy."_

"_Good girl," he said, smiling warmly. _

"_Can I take the rest now?" I asked._

"_Hold on a moment. Did you, Katherine Beckett, just ask me if you could take more medicine?"_

"_Don't call me Katherine," I protested. I hated my name._

"_Your mother needs to be here for this," he said, laughing. "Jo!"_

_My mom came running, the phone still clutched to her ear. "What?" she asked frantically._

"_Katie just asked if she could take the rest of her medicine," my dad said, smiling proudly._

"_That's it? Here I thought she was getting worse. Wait…did you just say she asked?"_

"_Uh huh," I said, nodding my head. I was sitting up on my own now. The triumph of conquering another battle gave me the strength I needed to sit up by myself. _

"_How'd you do it, Jim?"_

"_She asked if she could take grown-up pills, so I cut up some chewables and taught her how to swallow pills."_

_My mom shook her head and smiled. "I want to see this," she said, coming to my bed._

_I proudly took the last quarter of one of the pills and set it in the middle of my tongue. I took a long sip of water and swallowed. I opened my mouth wide, so my mom could see that the small bit of medicine was gone._

"_Well, Katie," she said, rubbing my back soothingly. "Looks like the end of an era."_

"_What era?" I asked._

"_The era of begging, coaxing, and fighting with you to take your medicine. You can do it like a grown up now."_

_I smiled at my mom's approval. I was glad she was proud of me. I got better faster than I ever had, and I was back in school in two days._

* * *

><p>"Katie?" my dad asks, drawing me from my memory. "Is everything okay?"<p>

"Yeah," I assure him. "I was just remembering the time I first learned to swallow a pill."

"That was a momentous day," my dad agrees. "I know you must want to rest," I roll my eyes. "So I'm going to go, but call if you need anything, okay?"

"Don't worry, Dad," I say. He kisses my forehead and leaves the room. I sigh deeply and stare at my breakfast. I'm not so hungry, so I set it aside, telling myself I'll eat it later.

I can't stop myself from thinking about all the people I haven't talked to. I can't remember the last time I heard Lanie's sassy voice telling me that she was going to smack me. I can't remember the last time I rolled my eyes at something ridiculous that Ryan and Esposito said. I can't remember the last time I smelled the comforting aroma of coffee and dry erase markers that make up the 12th precinct. I can't remember the last time I stood across from him, with a desk between us. I remember everything that happened from the moment I got hit with that bullet, but everything before that is what's a blur.

When I was still in the hospital, every time the door opened, I wished it was Castle coming to say that he wasn't going to give up so easily. But no, Castle never once came. The boys didn't talk about him, and I didn't probe. I'm sure he must have known when I was being discharged from the hospital, and yet he still didn't come by.

* * *

><p><em>I was sitting on the bed with my legs dangling off the edge. I'd been recovering for a month already and I could stand on my own. I could go to the bathroom on my own. I could put on a button down or zip up shirt on my own. I could laugh lightly without it hurting too much. But that's about it. I still couldn't walk down the hallway without getting winded. I still couldn't put my pants on by myself. And I sure as hell couldn't be a cop.<em>

_I sat thinking about what would come next. How long would I be out of the force? I knew I had to go back, but once I solved my mother's murder, would I still be a cop? How long would I have to sit and do nothing?_

_The door opened, pulling me from my head. I looked up, a bubble of hope in my chest that it might be Castle. But of course it wasn't._

"_Hey Josh," I greeted. I felt a strange sense of déjà vu, especially since I knew what was coming next._

"_Hey, babe. You look better."_

"_Thanks. I feel better. I'm out of the hospital gown."_

"_I can see."_

_He came and sat in a chair across from me, laying his hands on my knees. I wanted desperately to pull them away, but I didn't have the strength._

"_Are you okay?" he asked, looking into my eyes._

_Those words sounded weird coming from anyone other than Castle. We had asked each other that question more times than I could ever count, and it still sounded strange coming from anyone else._

"_Josh," I began. _

"_Not now, Katie, please," he said, pleading._

_Again, I felt a sense of déjà vu. I was going to my dad's cabin, and Josh and I had had this conversation before. We talked about whether he would be able to come, and the verdict was that there was too much going on. He was offered another Doctors Without Borders mission, and he was scheduled to leave in three weeks. He wouldn't be able to make it up to the cabin before then, what with packing and his duties at the hospital. When he told me he wouldn't be able to come to visit me, I knew that this wouldn't work. But I didn't want to break up with him while I was still somewhere where he could see me every day. That's why I waited until now._

"_No, Josh, I think this is important. I'm going with my dad to get better, and you're going off to Malaysia."_

"_So?"_

"_You're not going to see me before you leave and by the time you get back, I'll be back on the field. I think it would be best if we didn't see each other anymore."_

"_Are you breaking up with me?"_

"_Yeah," I said, feeling bad, but knowing that it was the right thing to do._

"_Why? Was it something I did?"_

_I smiled wanly and bit the corner of my lip, knowing I couldn't answer that. There were so many things that he did and so many times when he missed out. I chose the easy answer._

"_No, you're really great, but I don't think that this is going to work."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because you're going away and I'm going to get better and then go back to work. We're both too busy."_

"_Is it because of that Writer-Monkey?" Josh asked, bringing out the everlasting argument._

"_No, I haven't seen him in weeks," I said, not able to correct him. I couldn't bear to say his name. It hurt enough to think it._

"_Some partner he is," Josh scoffed._

"_Focus, Josh," I chastised, the words feeling foreign in my mouth. I couldn't remember the last time I had used them. They tasted of him. Of Castle. "I'm going back to work. It's who I am. I'm going to heal and then keep fighting bad guys. I think this has run its course."_

"_But Katie, I saved your life," he said in a desperate plea to win me back._

_I took a deep breath. I know he saved my life, but that could only go so far. My other partner had also saved my life. More than once. It was no longer fair to Josh to keep him in this relationship._

"_I know, but I can't Josh. I don't know how else to explain it to you. I'm going away. You're going away, and by the time we're both back, it will be just as it was before."_

"_What was wrong with that?" he asked. I couldn't believe how thick he was being._

"_We hardly saw each other. We were both busy and our heads were too wrapped up in work to truly be together. I can't live like that anymore."_

_I watched him watching me, as if trying to memorize my face. This was the only time that I was glad Castle left so quickly. I didn't have to draw it out longer than necessary._

"_Fine," Josh finally said. "But don't expect me to be waiting here if you change your mind."_

_I shook my head. "No, I'm making my stand."_

_Josh nodded and stood up. I closed my eyes when his lips gently touched my forehead, letting what I was doing sink in._

_He walked out without looking back._

* * *

><p>I close my eyes, trying to block out what happened in the next couple of hours. I left the hospital and was taken to this cabin. By the time I got here, my chest was aching and I was exhausted. My father had to nearly carry me to the bed.<p>

I know I did the right thing with Josh. He is Malaysia helping underprivileged children have a second chance at life, and here I am, cheating death and not strong enough to laugh in its face.

I feel tired and lie back on the plethora of pillows on my bed. I turn on the TV to watch some mind numbing cop show. If I can't be there to catch the criminals, why not watch someone else do it?

I feel my eyes get heavy and the next thing I know, I'm pulled into a lull of sleep.

* * *

><p>"Katie?" my dad asks, shaking me awake.<p>

I blink, trying to get my bearings in the morning light. I look around the room and it doesn't look familiar. Then I remember. I'm not in dad's cabin anymore. I'm in my room at my apartment.

My dad brought me back yesterday and last night was the first night I had spent in my apartment in three months. It didn't look lived in, but it was clean. There was not a dust mite anywhere, and no moth balls either.

"Morning, Dad," I say, sitting up in bed. I'm glad that it doesn't hurt to move anymore. I'm fully healed and then I remember – I'm going back to the precinct today. I had convinced my father to let me come home a week early, and I'm so excited to go back to work. After three months of not doing a thing, the thought of going back to some sort of normalcy was what I could only imagine coke felt like to an addict.

I swing my legs to the side and lift myself off my bed. I go through the motions of the morning, my stomach giddy at the thought of going back. As I move around my room and bathroom, I realize how happy I am to be back and how nice it is to feel that I'm finally coming back.

* * *

><p>"<em>Katie, are you sure you want to do this?" my dad asked for the hundredth time. "You have another week's leave. You sure you want to go home today."<em>

"_Yes, Dad. I feel great, and I just want to be back in the city."_

_We'd had that conversation multiple times a day for the past week – ever since I first mentioned that I wanted to go home early._

_He helped me pack up what things I had and loaded them into his car._

"_I'm driving," I said, grabbing for the keys._

"_No way, Katie," my father protested._

"_Please?" I tried again._

"_Not a chance." _

_He held them out of reach and hopped into the driver's seat, sticking the key into the ignition. I had no choice but to accept that he would be driving me back to the city. I sighed dejectedly and buckled my seat belt._

_I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. The gently hum of the motor and the smooth ride over the highway lulled my to sleep, and I wasn't aware of anything until my dad shook me awake. I looked out the window and almost cried at the sight of my apartment building. It had been so long since I had been here. Not since before his funeral._

"_Ready?" my dad asked, holding my lone suitcase. I took my jacket and purse and looked at him._

"_As I'll ever be."_

_We rode the elevator in silence, my stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies. Would it be as I left it? Would it hold too many memories? Would I still like it? My mind buzzed with questions. We finally made it to my floor and I stepped off the elevator. I saw my door and I felt a rush of memories flow through my veins. It felt good to be home. Finally._

_I unlocked the door and pushed it open. I was expecting to be hit with the musky scent of a place that no one had been into in a long time. I expected dust bunnies everywhere. It was nothing like that. Everything was spotless and just as I remembered it when I left, wearing the uniform I hadn't worn in over four years._

_I took a slow walk through the apartment, looking at each room, scrutinizing it to see if there was anything out of place. Everything I saw reminded me of him. The couch made me think of that meeting we had right before the funeral. The pillows reminded me of when Castle came over to help me plan the fundraiser for my mother. The kitchen reminded me of when he made me breakfast that one time, even though that was in a different apartment._

_I couldn't get him out of my mind. No matter how hard I tried, everything had an association with him. Everything reminded me how I had lied to him and shut out my best friend. How I pushed him away when I needed him the most._

"_Well?" my father asked, jerking me from my reverie._

_I took a deep breath, pushing all thoughts of him out of my mind. "It's home," I said. I went into my bedroom and lifted a pillow to my face. I breathed in the comforting scent and I felt a weight being lifted from my shoulders. I was home._

* * *

><p>I am home. I slip on my mother's ring and my father's watch. I holster my gun and clip my badge to my waist. I slip a backup gun into my purse, along with my cuffs, wallet, phone, and whatever else I might need for the day. I take a moment to look in the mirror and inspect the reflection. Yes, Detective Kate Beckett was back on the beat.<p>

I get mentally ready to return to the precinct. I wonder how people will react when they see me, especially my team, since I haven't made contact in a long time. But most of all, I keep in mind the three little words I never plan on repeating to anyone.

I remember everything.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed that! I have Rick's POV all done, but I'm going to wait until I get some feedback, so the next chapter is all on you. Review and let me know if you want the next chapter!<strong>

**Have a great week,  
>Mangotango101 <strong>


	2. Rick

**In honor of 4x10 Cuffed, and the winter hiatus, here is the second chapter to my new story. This is from Rick's point of view. I hope you enjoy. I have a question at the end of the chapter, so be sure to answer it in a review or a PM.**

**Disclaimer: This is not mine. All belongs to AWM, ABC, and whoever actually owns _Castle_. This is for entertainment purposes only, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Those Three Little Words  
>Chapter 2: Rick <strong>

* * *

><p>I sit at my desk, staring at the schedule Gina sent me that outlines the book tour that I'm supposed to be leaving for in a few days. Since being kicked out of the precinct, I've hardly moved from my chair, staring at the leather one she sat in all those years before. I can't think her name – it hurts too much. Regardless, she still consumes my thoughts. I haven't been able to think about anything else since I tackled her.<p>

It's been two months since she asked me to leave the ICU. She said she needed time – I didn't think it would be this long. Mother and Alexis have done everything in their power to get me back on my feet, but I don't want to. I used to not want to do anything or be anywhere except the precinct. Gina had been down my throat about finishing _Heat __Rises_, but I couldn't find it in me. The day that I got kicked out by Iron Gates was the day that I finished the book. I came home and changed the dedication. It wasn't always going to be dedicated to Montgomery, but when I was no longer allowed in the precinct, it felt right.

I look at my calendar and am surprised to see that tomorrow is the day that _Heat __Rises_ is supposed to hit the stands. I feel nothing. Three months ago, I would have been jumping for joy at the thought of seeing the sales skyrocket, but now, I feel absolutely nothing.

In my fantasy world, she would have preordered a copy (wherever she is now) and will be waiting at the bookstore for the moment it will go on sale. She'll read it multiple times, laughing at the Belvedere Castle scene, roll her eyes, and mutter, "Oh Castle, what an arrogant little…"

Then maybe…

She'll call me and tell me she's ready to talk. I'll tell her "See you at Remy's." We'll meet there and have burgers, fries, and shakes. She'll thank me for the dedication and tell me it made her cry. She'll explain why she didn't call for two months and she'll say that Dr. Motorcycle Boy is gone. I'll ask her to come to my place and she'll raise her eyebrows. I'll tell her my intentions are pure and she'll smile, remembering the last time I used those words. After a minute, she'll agree and we'll hail a taxi.

We'll sit on the couch and she'll tell me why we can't be together. I'll tell her she's being ridiculous. I'll take my chances and kiss her. She'll hesitate for a minute, in which my heart will stop, thinking that I did the wrong thing. Just as I will start to pull away, I'll feel her lips moving against mine. It will be like the first kiss we shared outside the warehouse, but a hundred times better. She'll pull away and with confusion, yet dark desire, we'll go in for round two. Our bodies will get closer until there is no place between us at all. Our hands will roam and I'll pull her into a lying position. She'll fall atop me and laugh. I'll join in and we'll look deep into each other's eyes. She'll open her mouth and…

An ambulance siren jerks me from my daydream. My heart accelerates, and I can feel her on my lips. I can smell her cherry shampoo. I can taste her in my mouth. I can feel her under me—

In an ambulance. Dying. Flat line. Gone. Kate.

* * *

><p><em>I didn't hear any of the commotion around me. I knew that it was chaos, but I could only see her.<em>

"_Kate, shh…Kate. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay?" I whispered frantically, searching for any sign of recognition. She looked so scared. Her green eyes which were usually filled with cold determination and passion were scared and vulnerable. I felt her blood seep onto my hand and I saw her gloves. So red. So bright, bright red. I wanted to stop it. I needed to stop it._

_Seeing the tear in her eyes brought tears of my own to my eyes. They gave me the courage I needed to say what had to be said, in case I never saw her again._

"_Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate." It felt so right to finally get the words out. I knew that she heard me and that she comprehended what I said. I knew she loved me too. For an instant, right before her I felt her go slack, I saw the pure, unabashed love in her eyes._

_Tears leaked from my eyes and I saw hers close. Would I ever see them again? Would I ever see her roll her eyes at me because I said something stupid? Would I ever see the fire in her eyes when she took down a suspect? Would I ever see the hurt after learning something new about her mother? Would I ever see the love again? There were too many variables—to many possibilities for a bad ending._

_I heard voices and I saw a yellow stretcher and EMTs converging. I felt hands pulling me away. I might have yelled. I might have fought. I might have cried. I don't know. People crossed through my line of sight, and I could no longer see her. EMTs were frantically yelling to each other about some medical something or other, and I was screaming. "Kate! Kate no! Kate!"_

_I watched as they counted to three and lifted her onto a stretcher. They started wheeling her away and I continued to scream. "Kate! Kate no! Kate!"_

"_C'mon, Castle," said a voice, attempting to pull me to my feet._

"_No," I fought back._

"_Castle. It's me, Lanie. We're going to ride with them, okay? Do you understand me?" she asked, speaking as if I were a child._

_It was Lanie. She shook me and forced me to look her in the eye. I didn't answer, but I stopped protesting as she led me to towards the ambulance._

"_Only one passenger," said a curt EMT._

"_Kate! Kate no! Kate!" At the sheer thought of not being with her – not seeing her – was causing me to scream again._

"_You take both of us or I will set the wrath of a very angry Twelfth Precinct of Manhattan on you, do you understand?" hissed Lanie, shoving her way into the back._

_I __saw __Kate __lying __motionless. __Her __uniform __was __ripped __open __and __I __saw __the __blood. __I __heard __the _beep…beep…beep_. __Confirmation __that __she __was __still __alive._

_I felt a jerk and the ambulance started moving. It went faster and faster. I felt like I was falling off a cliff. I found her cold hand and held it tight. I felt her skin under mine and was anchored. I knew as long as I was holding her, I wouldn't fall into the welcoming abyss. I finally understood what she meant when she said that she would fall down the rabbit hole. If I lost her, I would fall too, and there would be no rescue. _

_Time passed strangely in that ambulance. I hardly remember anything, yet I remember everything._

_Then I heard it. No more beeps. Just a flat line. I went from calmly sitting, praying silently to screaming again, squeezing her hand harder. "Kate! Kate no! Kate!"_

_The EMTs in the ambulance frantically began doing whatever they did to keep her alive. I didn't know much about keeping anyone alive – usually I kill them. I felt Lanie's hand on my shoulder again, silently begging me to let go of Kate's hand._

"_Kate! Kate no! Kate!"_

* * *

><p>"Dad!" yells Alexis, shaking me. I start, realizing that I had fallen asleep and it was all a dream. "Dad, are you okay?"<p>

I look around disoriented, trying to figure out where I am.

"Dad!" Alexis yells again.

"Kate! Kate no! Kate!" I scream, flailing around, trying to find her.

"Dad. It's me, Alexis. You're at home. Dad, you're scaring me."

I stop suddenly, looking around.

"Alexis, sweetie," I say.

"Dad, what's wrong?" she asks, looking frightened.

"Nothing, I was just having a bad dream."

"Dad, don't give me that. You were thinking about that day, weren't you?" I don't say anything. I know what Alexis will tell me if I admit it. "You need to stop this. You have to move on."

I still don't say a word. I can't make a sound. In my head, I'm still in that ambulance hearing the flat-line. There is no way for me to pull away. Every time I close my eyes I see her face. Every time I go to sleep I hear the gun shot that changed my life. Every time I try to stop thinking about her, my mind plays a montage of all the times we have laughed together. I have lost the ability to separate past, present, and future. I am spiraling down that rabbit hole, and I cannot stop myself. Alexis can't stop me. No one can stop me except for her.

"It isn't fair to Grams or to me," Alexis continues, months of pent up frustration getting the better of her. Even when she was a child, I had rarely heard her speak with such conviction. "I know you love her, but you're throwing away everything else in your life. You don't talk to anyone from the precinct, you're hardly ever present enough to have a conversation with me or Grams. She's so worried about you, Dad. She wants to help you, but you won't let anyone in. It's like you don't care about us anymore. Is that what it is? Do you not love us anymore?"

I come out of my daze long enough to hear Alexis think that I don't love her. It rips my heart apart to think that my daughter could ever imagine that I don't love her.

"Pumpkin, how could you think that? I love you more than anything."

"Then why don't you try a little harder to show it," she says, her eyes as cold as ice. I see for the first time how much I hurt her. I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, she turns and storms from the room, her red hair bouncing behind her.

I sit back in my chair and feel useless. The only time I felt useful at all since that day was when I was in the precinct, trying to find the bastard who shot her.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hey Esposito, check this out," I called across the bull pen. There was an acting Captain at the 12th, just until 1PP figured out who would officially take over. The Captain wasn't very concerned with the goings on of the bull pen; he just sat behind his desk and did paperwork.<em>

_I had been throwing myself into the investigation. I felt that it was the only link I had to her. She hadn't called, emailed, or reached out to me in any way and I was beginning to get desperate. I needed to know that she was okay and that she was getting better. It killed me to think that she was snuggling close with Josh while I was here, sleepless, trying to solve the conspiracy of her mother's murder. I wanted to find the answer. I wanted to crack the case open to give her hope. It was the only way I knew how to cope. _

_At __home, __I __was __nothing. __I __didn__'__t __speak. __I __just __sat, __drank, __and __occasionally __looked __at __my __manuscript __for _Heat Rises_, __but __usually __just __sat __and __thought. __My __family __wasn__'__t __happy __with __me, __but __I __couldn__'__t __find __another __way __to __deal. __I __felt __like __part __of __my __heart __had __been __ripped __out __and __left __to __bleed __in __that __cemetery. __The __only __place __I __felt I __had a __purpose __was __at __the __precinct, __which __was __why __I __spent __most __of __my __waking __hours __there._

"_What did you find?" Esposito asked, rolling over the computer screen where I was. We were both worse for wear. I hadn't slept in days. The only thing remotely close to it was power naps on the break room couch. Esposito wasn't much better, but he still had Lanie to hold him and keep the nightmares away._

"_I was looking for the files since the bank closed down and it looks like they sent them to a storage unit in Union City."_

"_Great. Let's go to that storage facility and pick it up," he said, standing and patting me on the shoulder._

"_Uhh, that might be harder than we thought. The bank burned down twelve years ago."_

"_What?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_I'll check the investigation to make sure it wasn't arson," said Esposito going back to his desk._

"_Guys!" cried Ryan, running off the elevator to his partners. "I just heard. They found a new Captain. Victoria Gates."_

"_A woman?" I asked. I didn't mean to sound so sexist._

"_Yeah. They say she's tough as nails."_

"_Yo," said Esposito, coming to where Ryan and I were. He had heard the information, but that wasn't going to stop him from following the lead. "I checked into the investigation. They say it was a power surge to the junction box. Very rare."_

"_What?" asked Ryan. _

"_Castle found the files. They were in a storage facility in Union City, but it burnt down over a decade ago."_

"_Son of a bitch," muttered Ryan._

_Before any of us could respond, the elevator doors opened. I looked upon instinct, hoping that it would be her. But no. It was a tough looking woman who was dressed in a red dress with a navy blazer. She walked through the bull pen to Montgomery's office with an air of superiority._

"_So that's Gates?" I asked quietly. Ryan nodded. We watched as she spoke to the acting Captain who nodded, shook her hand and left quickly. Gates took a moment to collect herself before heading back to the bull pen._

"_Ryan, Esposito, Castle, may I see you in here for a moment?" Before waiting for an answer, she stalked to the desk and sat down. We shared skeptical looks, but followed her none the less._

"_Captain," we greeted as they stood across from her. It felt weird to us to see another face other than Montgomery's._

"_Do you have any leads on the sniper?" she asked without preamble. We were slightly stunned at how straight she was being._

"_No, nothing," began Esposito. "He left his weapon wiped down, no bullets and no shell casings. Some workers saw someone suspicious in their uniform, but after the shooting he disappeared and no one has seen him since."_

"_Also," added Ryan, knowing that her next question would be. "We asked for sketches, but none of the men saw his face enough to give us a clear one. So far, we just have Caucasian male. That's it."_

"_Well considering that it's been two weeks and you're still where you were the second day of the investigation, I am hereby closing this case. You will return to your jobs as homicide detectives. No discussion," Gates added when she saw the three of us open our mouths to respond. She had been warned about this team, but she knew what to do. Divide and conquer. "Ryan, Esposito, I hear Karpowski has a body. I want you to go with her."_

"_Yes ma'am," said Ryan quietly, turning to duck out of her office._

"_To you I am Captain or Sir, do I make myself clear?"_

"_Yes Sir," chanted Ryan and Esposito, leaving swiftly. I made to follow them, but Gates interrupted me._

"_Not you, Mr. Castle. I want to talk to you for a moment. Now sit."_

_I was taken aback but did as I was told. I could tell Gates wasn't someone to cross, but I really hoped that I would be allowed to continue working at the precinct, even if it was just to help solve normal murders. I couldn't imagine what his life would be without the precinct. I needed it to keep myself grounded. I needed to see her procession of porcelain elephants and candy bowl every day, just to be sure that I still could remember some of our happier times together. If I concentrated really hard, I could see her sitting at that desk. I needed that sense of normalcy._

"_I've heard a lot of things about you, Mr. Castle," began Gates. Normally, I would have responded with some innuendo, but not this time. "I understand that you have been consulting with the department for about three years now. Since coming to the Twelfth, case closure rates have risen, disregarding the downsizing. Impressive, I must say." I was about to respond, but she kept talking. "But I will not have that in my precinct. I'm not sure what kind of station Montgomery was running, but things will be different now. I cannot have you in the bull pen every day. You are not a cop, nor do you have any kind of tactical training whatsoever. If you chose to consult on occasion, then it will be by a case by case scenario, but I cannot let you come in every day. Now I am kindly asking you to leave promptly, and if you don't, I will be forced to call security. And since we're in a police station, that shouldn't be a problem."_

_My heart sunk. It was happening. I was finally being kicked out of the precinct. I didn't want to leave. I couldn't leave. But I knew I had to. I had no place here with an unkind captain and her not around. There was nothing for me._

_With a heavy heart, I walked slowly through the bull pen, taking one last look at her desk, memorizing it so I would never forget._

_By __the __time __I __got __to __my __apartment, __I __no __longer __felt __like __a __lost __puppy, __rather __I __felt __a __need __to __avenge __my __ban __from __the __12__th__. __I __sat __at my __desk __and __opened __my __computer. I __hardly __stopped __to __eat, __or __even __sleep, __as __I __finished _Heat Rises_. __It __was __the __best __ending __I __had __written._

* * *

><p>I button my flannel plaid shirt while looking in the mirror. This is the first day that I am signing in New York and I am nervous. I had gotten back from my book tour a couple nights ago and am still worn out. I hate the cameras, the lights, and the fan girls. I used to like it, but not since I met her. Not since she turned my world upside down.<p>

I wonder if she will come today. I wonder if I will see her. I hadn't stopped wondering since I found out the date of this event. In the back of my mind, I know that the chances are so low that I should not even get my hopes up. So I don't. Every time I feel a bubble on excitement inside, I squelch it, telling myself that she's not coming. Because why would she? She hasn't called in months and I haven't been in touch with anyone from the precinct in weeks. She has no reason to come.

With a sigh, I comb my hair once more. I muster all the energy I can to look enthusiastic and like the Bad Boy of New York, as Gina likes to put it. I know that when I come home tonight, I will down a fifth of scotch and lament how much I miss her. But until then, I will just have to be charming Rick Castle.

As I get driven to the bookstore, I think back to when she came to get her book signed. I remember it as if it were yesterday, but she always got…no, gets…so flustered when someone considered her a 'fan girl,' so I never brought up that I recall the day she came into get her book signed. I watch the skyscrapers fly by and am transported back to that day.

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh <em>_my __god, __I __can__'__t __believe __I__'__m __meeting __you. __You're, __like, __my __favorite __writer, __like, __ever!__" __cried __a __blonde __bimbat __as __she __handed __me __her __copy __of __my __latest _Derrick Storm _novel. __I __smiled __at __her __and __politely __answered._

"_It's always nice to meet a fan. I hope you enjoy it." I signed the book with a flourish and shot her my most charming smile. I could literally see her heart palpitate and she swooned. Inside, I rolled my eyes. I wished that I could just have a normal girl come up to me sometime._

"_Daddy," said Alexis, tugging on my sleeve. She was sitting, coloring next to me._

"_What is it Pumpkin?" _

"_Look at that girl there. She looks different than all the others."_

"_Don't point, Sweetie, it's rude," I said, gently lowering my daughter's hand. I looked to where Alexis had pointed and saw what she was talking about. At the way back of the line, there was a slim woman holding my book open to the beginning. She was far away, but I could see her eyes moving rapidly as she read the first chapter. It was comforting to see that there was someone here who bought my books to read them and not just to meet me._

_At that moment, I knew she was different. She turned the page and flicked her eyes upwards for a moment, scanning where the line was. Seeing that it hadn't moved, she looked back down at the page and continued reading. _

_I could only see her eyes for a moment, but when I did, it shocked me. Her brown eyes looked haunted. She looked as if she had experienced something terrible in her life and it was the strangest feeling for me. I just wanted to leave my station behind the table and go up to her and give her a huge hug. But that would be wildly inappropriate and Paula and Gina would both murder me._

_Seeing her sad eyes, I started to notice other things about her that suggested trauma. I saw that she was holding the book so tightly that her knuckles were turning white and she was shaking a little. Her posture was hunched as if she were protecting herself from the outside world. I saw her attire – dark wash jeans, boots, a leather jacket, and a scarf over a turtleneck. Everything was dark. It reminded me of someone in mourning. I wondered what had happened to make her like that. Her hair was down; her chestnut waves draped over her face and moved slightly with each exhale. After her hair fell in front of her face, she would wait about five breaths before daintily tucking it behind her ear again, only to let it fall._

_I liked her immediately. I could tell she was different. I could tell that she wasn't like the rest of the women in line._

"_Thank you so much, it's so amazing to meet you," came a voice in front of me. I snapped from my reverie and returned the smile that the woman before me had._

"_It's nice to meet you, too. Now, to whom shall I make this out?" I asked, not looking at the woman, but rather the one by the door._

"_Stacie."_

"_I hope you enjoy it, Stacie," I said as I handed the book back to her. She giggled and walked away. I had a feeling she would never read the book._

_An hour passed and I was assaulted by too many women who were too excited about meeting me. Alexis had gone with Paige's family to lunch, so I couldn't even use my kid as an excuse to leave. I was exhausted by the time the woman reached me, but I was so glad that she had waited._

"_Hello," I said, looking up at her. She was even more beautiful up close. I felt my breath leave my chest._

"_Hi," she said quietly._

"_To whom shall I make this out?" I asked, lifting my pen._

"_Kate. You can make it out to Kate."_

_I thought for a moment before writing in neater handwriting than for anyone else. I wanted to be sure she would read it._

To Kate,  
>Never let the world get you down.<br>Richard Castle

"_Here you go, Kate," I said, handing her the book. I saw her smile sadly, tuck the hair behind her ear, and walk away. I watched her go, and realized that I hadn't even found out her last name._

* * *

><p>I arrive at the book store and take a deep breath. I'm here, and I wish that she were, too.<p>

As I sit behind the table, I feel that odd sense of déjà vu that I have every time I'm at a book signing. Today, especially, I feel that something different is going to happen. I hope that it is a good thing.

I hear the book store people herding the cheering crowd into a line and I sigh. I don't see her yet, and I don't expect to.

Hours pass, and I'm tired. I feel weary and hurt. I don't want to do anything. I answer with less and less vigor, until I'm truly dull. I don't even look up anymore. Until I hear it.

"Kate. You can make it out to Kate."

I look up and see her. Exactly how she was all those years ago, but more beautiful than ever. Her eyes are sad and she looks nervous.

I see it in her eyes. She doesn't remember what I said. She doesn't remember those three little words.

I love you.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I hope this lived up to your expectations. Now, what I want to ask you...I don't currently have a chapter written for them meeting and revealing their Three Little Words, but I can write one if you want. So that's up to you. If you want one, review and let me know. Seriously, though...I'm not writing one unless there are people out there who want to read it. So it's all on you. <strong>

**With that out of the way, another chapter of Diving In Together will be coming shortly to quench the dry spell we're all going to go through until January 9th. I hope you liked Cuffed.**

**Please leave me a review. Have a great week,**

**Mangotango101**


	3. January 9, 2012

**Hey. So I'm super bummed that I couldn't get this up on Jan 9th, but hey, it's still the night. This takes place on the 9th. I hope it's not too out of character. More notes at the bottom. **

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, favorited, and encouraged me to write this chapter. Sorry it took so long.**

**Diclaimer: This is not mine. Anything recognizable belongs to AWM, ABC. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Those Three Little Words  
>Chapter 3: January 9, 2012 <strong>

* * *

><p>I wake up early on the morning of Ryan's wedding. The sunlight filters through the blinds, coaxing me away. I lie in bed thinking about how happy I am for Ryan and Jenny. They are two wonderful people who deserve each other. Their wedding day is going to be spectacular. Rick had asked me to go, and in a fit of weakness, I said yes. Of course, then next day, I found a white box with the most gorgeous dress sitting on my doorstep.<p>

But my day wasn't all wedding bells and joy. I have a deep pit of dread in my stomach that is slowly making its way through my body and to my heart.

Today is January 9, 2012.

Thirteen years ago, my life was torn apart and left in shambles. Thirteen years ago, my father took his first drink. Thirteen years ago, I was left without a mother and my father without a wife.

Thirteen years ago, my mother, Johanna Beckett, was murdered.

No matter how happy I am for Kevin and Jenny, there are some very important things I have to do before I can get ready for the evening.

I pull the covers off and slip my feet out of bed. I cringe as they touch the cold floor, but I relish in the pain. Today is not about being happy. Today is about mourning my mother's death. Today is the only day I allow myself to fully feel the effects of her murder.

I have traditions. I call my dad in the morning. I read through her case file. I look at old photo albums. I go to the cemetery and bring her flowers. I read the letters she sent to me while I was at school in California. I skim through the book that got me through her murder. And I skim through the one he signed. But the most important of them all – I put her ring on the fourth finger of my left hand as opposed to the chain around my neck.

I start my day with looking through the photo album. My parents were the kind that took pictures of everything, not just special occasions. I come across one that strikes me. It is of me and my father, hand in hand, walking out of my mother's office. She must have taken it unbeknownst to us. Those candid shots are my favorite, because it reminds me of what my life was like before. What life, not just birthday parties, trips to the zoo, or special occasions were, but what it was like to grow up in the Beckett household.

I run my hand over the back of my six year old head, remembering that day.

* * *

><p>"<em>Mama, Mama, look what I did in school today," I said bursting through the door to our apartment. My father followed me in, carrying my backpack, jacket, and lunch box.<em>

_I couldn't wait to her my mother's reply, but instead ran through the apartment looking for her. I found her in her study on the phone. I knocked on the door, just as I was taught. I was never to go into Mama's study unless she was there and had given me permission. _

_Mama looked at me and smiled. She cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder and beckoned for me to come to her. I came, my pigtails bouncing, and hopped up onto her lap. _

"_Mm hm," she said into the phone. "Great. Tell Mr. Hatchett that I'll be in tomorrow to talk to him about it…Okay, I have to go. We'll talk later. Bye." Mama hung up the phone and looked at me. She kissed me on the cheek and ruffled my hair._

"_Okay, Kiddo, what did you have to show me?" she asked. I held up an half of an empty soda bottle covered in tissue paper. "What is it?" _

"_It's for plants. I made it for your office. But Mrs. Maple said that we have to get soil. She gave us all a package of seeds. Daddy has it in my backpack. So will you put it on your desk?" I rambled. _

_Mama gave me another kiss. "Of course I will, sweetie. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."_

_I smiled brightly. I loved making Mama art projects. Her office was filled with all the pictures I had made her. There were pictures of all of us, of just her, and of pretty things I saw on my way to school._

"_Hey, Jo," said Daddy from the door. He came over to us and gave Mama a kiss on the mouth._

"_Ew," I said, scrunching up my nose. "That's icky."_

_Daddy smiled at me. "One day you won't think so, Katie Bug," he laughed._

"_Nuh uh. Marty tried to kiss me on the cheek, but he has cooties. I ran away."_

_Daddy and Mama looked at each other and laughed. "What's so funny?" I demanded. I hated it when they laughed at me._

"_You're cute, is all," said Mama, squeezing me tight._

_I shrugged, accepting her answer. "What's for dinner?"_

"_Are you hungry?" asked Daddy._

"_I'm always hungry," I answered._

"_Well, we have pasta, we can make Tuna Nuna or cheesy rice balls."_

"_Tuna Nuna!" I shrieked happily. I knew that it was actually Tuna Noodle casserole, but before I could talk, I accidentally called it Tuna Nuna and since then, that's what we've called it._

"_Sounds yummy," said Mama. "I have to do some more work, but since you're a big first grader, do you want to help Daddy make it?"_

_I nodded and slid off her lap. I took Daddy's hand and he led me to the kitchen. I heard Mama reach for something in her desk, but I was too busy chattering to Daddy about my day to think about what it was._

* * *

><p>I sigh and continue to flip through the pages. I try not to dwell on one for too long, or I know that I will not be able to get through the day. I know the day will be hard, and I am going to do everything I can to keep it together. I still have to be strong for her.<p>

I pick up my phone and dial my father's number.

"Hey Dad," I say.

"Hi Katie. How are you doing?"

"I should be asking you that question."

"I asked first."

I shrug into the phone and realize that I slipped into an old childhood habit. "I'm all right."

"I can tell you're lying," my father says.

"Well what do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

"The truth?" I ask. "I'm not doing very well. My coworker is getting married today, and I am excited for that, but I know that I have to feel this pain first. It makes me wonder what it will be like on my wedding day without her."

"Is there something you're not telling me, Katie?"

"What? No, Dad. I'm not engaged. Just hypothesizing."

"You know what you should do?"

"Wait, you didn't tell me how you're doing."

"I'm fine, Katie. Spending the day with my sponsor."

This is how our conversations always go. They're always kind of awkward, because none of us really want to talk about our feelings. He doesn't like to show me how weak he is, and I don't like to let him know how much Mom's death affected me.

"That's good," I say. We fall into a lull, neither of us really knowing what to say. It is a comfortable pause for the most part. There are things that I want to tell him, but that I don't have the courage to. I want to tell my father how much closer I am getting to Rick. I want to tell my father that Rick helped me through my PTSD, but my father doesn't even know that I have it. I want to tell my father that Rick said 'always' to me again, but it would be too out of character for us. I was never one to tell my father the goings on of my love life. No, that was what my mother was for.

"Katie," my father says, breaking our silence. "I think you should call him today. I don't want you to be alone."

I think about it. I want to call him, but I can't.

"No, it's okay, Dad."

"If you don't, I will."

"Dad."

"Fine. Stubborn as always. Just like your mother."

I smile. I like it when my father tells me I remind him of my mother. To me, it is the highest compliment I can get.

I hear a doorbell through the phone.

"I have to go. Call if you need anything."

"Okay, dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, Katie Bug."

I hang up the phone and I pull my knees to my chest. I tick off another thing from my mental checklist. Looked at pictures. Check. Called my Dad. Check. I let two tears seep out of my eyes and leave wet dots on my pajama bottoms, but I keep the rest inside.

I stand from my bed and get dressed. I put on a nice pair of jeans, but not ones that I am afraid to get dirty. The cemetery is usually wet at this time of year, and I like to sit on the grass at her headstone. I pull on a turtleneck and an NYPD sweatshirt. I go to holster my gun and clip my badge and think better of it. For now, I'm not a cop. For now, I am a woman who lost her mother too soon. I pick up the ring and I kiss it gently. I reverently take it off its chain and slip it onto my fourth finger. It feels right. For the first time in thirteen years, the weight on my finger feels comforting. It makes me wonder whether it is a sign that I am ready for marriage. Each year for the past four, it has been getting easier and easier to wear it on my ring finger. I think it is because of him.

I let my mind wander briefly from my mother to him. I wonder what he is doing at this very moment. I wonder what he will think when he sees the ring. He has never actually seen me on the anniversary of my mother's death. I always take a sick day and don't let him come over. January 9 is just for me. I think about the vow I made when I went back to the precinct – that I wouldn't tell anyone that I remembered what he had said to me. I think about whether today is the day when I'll tell him. It's too early to tell.

I walk out of my room, ready to face the rest of the day. I make my way to the kitchen and prepare myself an English muffin with jam – my mother's favorite breakfast. I chase it down with a glass of milk. I clean up and head to my office. I open the shutters to reveal my makeshift murder board. I look at it, restudying each card and each picture. My mind begins to make the connections that I had already figured out from years past. I look at the newer cards, thinking about what sacrifices had to happen. I let my finger trail slowly over the most recent name. Roy Montgomery. I feel the grainy feeling of a tear drop that I had tried to dry. I feel the corners of PTSD approaching and I quickly move away, not wanting to think about it.

I pull open the only locked drawer of my desk. I take out a pile of papers and files. I put them into neat stacks, depending on who they are related to. Each was color coded and cross referenced. I take the first stack. The one of Joe Pulgatti. I read each word carefully, hoping to find something new. The pages feel comforting. It feels good to be working on the case again. I know it will have bad endings if I let myself do it often, but I find that it is good for me to do it once a year.

I methodically make my way through the stacks, adding to the large whiteboard that I had bought at a store for teachers. It had some old stains from prior years. Every year, I made an elaborate murder board, only to erase it at 11:59 PM. Each year, I try to use a different color. I know I will run out soon, but I am hoping that I can stop this sick tradition before that happens.

My block letters are shakier than usual, but everything is organized. I look at the dizzying amount of information and feel a swell of pride go through my heart. I remember ten years ago when I had the same white board, but there were only a few things written. It makes me happy to know how far I came. Every year, I take a picture with enough resolution to see how much is written but not enough to see what was written. I enjoy seeing how much more there is each year. I may need to get a new white board soon.

Hours pass and I do not realize. I am so wrapped up in working through the case that I almost don't notice how hungry I am. I pause and take a look at my handiwork. I had been sitting in my ergonomic chair, staring at the board for an hour and half, not adding anything new, just thinking. I feel that I have exhausted the case for today. Nothing new came to me, but it was still comforting to prepare the board and go through the motions that are so familiar but shouldn't be.

I call my favorite Chinese restaurant and ask them to deliver to my address. They say that it will be there within twenty minutes. Just enough time for me to clean up the case files. No one ever has to know that I go down the rabbit hole once a year. Rick would kill me. My father would kill me. Everyone would be angry.

I close each file and reinsert each picture into its sleeve. I make sure to check that no pages are bent. I turn the white board around so you cannot see the writing. I close my shutters and put everything back into the deep drawer. I lock it with the key and put the key back in my room. I go to the living room to go through with the next tradition of today.

My shelves are filled with books about architecture, mystery, and criminal justice. I pull one off my shelf. _Flowers for Your Grave_. It was the first of his I had ever written. I remember the day like it was yesterday.

* * *

><p>"<em>Katie, where are you?" called my mother.<em>

"_In here," I answered back. I was home for winter break from California. I had forgotten how cold New York got in the winter, but it was good to be home. My mother and father were busy with work, but they came to meet me at the airport. We hugged and my father cried a little. _

_I was sitting in my childhood bedroom, smelling the sheets._

"_What are you doing?" she asked. I looked up from my crouched position at the foot of my bed._

"_I'm smelling the sheets," I said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world._

"_Why?"_

"_Because they smell like home."_

_My mom smiled and I hugged her. It felt good to be in her arms again. California was far. I loved being away from home, don't get me wrong. I was a rebellious teenager, but still, there was nothing I loved more than coming home at the end of the semester. _

"_Come on, sweetie, we're going out to dinner."_

_I stood and grabbed a sweatshirt from my desk chair. I followed my mother to the living room. We were waiting for my father when I saw something colorful on the end table._

"_What this?" I asked, picking up the book and opening it to read the flaps._

"_It's a novel my colleague suggested I read. It's very good," she said._

"Flowers for Your Grave_," I read. "By Richard Castle."_

"_You should read it, Katie. I think you'd like it."_

"_I'm not a huge fan of mystery books."_

"_You should try it."_

"_I'll think about it."_

"_Great," she said, giving me a kiss on the head. The house phone rang and my mother went to answer it. "Beckett Residence, this is Johanna," she said. She paused and listened for a moment. "I see…I was just about to go out with my family, but….I understand…very well. See you soon."_

"_Katie, I'm so sorry, I just got called into an emergency at work. It will only be an hour tops. I'll meet you and your father for dinner, all right?" she asked._

_I was disappointed that she couldn't come, but I understood that it was important for her to do her work. "Sure thing, Mom. See you later."_

"_Bye, sweetie. I love you."_

"_Love you too, Mom," I said, giving her a hug._

"_Jim, I'll meet you two at the restaurant," she called to my father. "I love you!"_

"_Love you too Jo," my father called back._

_My mother grabbed her purse and ran out of the house. That was the last time I ever saw her._

* * *

><p>Had I known that the next time I would see my mother was bloody and limp in an alley, I would have made those last moments mean more. I would have insisted that she come with us to dinner. I went through so many 'what-ifs' in the early days. I have learned to live with them.<p>

I pull _Flowers for Your Grave_ off the shelf and open it. The word was playing a sick joke on me when it was the murder from that book that brought me to him. I don't think I am complaining. I flip to my favorite part in the book. I read it, finding comfort in the words of Rick. Now, I imagine him reading it to me, with his gentle, rich voice. It sends tingles up and down my spine.

I am pulled from the world that Castle created when the doorbell rang. I pay for the food and begin eating while still reading. The moment my father and I returned to our apartment, I picked up the book and began to read it. I couldn't sleep, so I finished it within hours. The next day, I bought all his books that were available. I devoured them, knowing that they were my last link to my mother. Mom wanted me to read them, so I did. I fell in love with the worlds and the stories. Castle had a talent.

Reading mysteries was interesting while I was in the academy. Everything in Castle's books was against what I was being taught at school. It was exciting for me to find the balance. Eventually, I became more by the book. Rick found the adventurous side of me and brought it back into my case solving.

I put the book back on my shelf and took off the other one. The one he signed. He didn't know it, but that day was the first anniversary of her death. He had signed it with such poignancy that I read it every year. I never told him that it was me, and he didn't seem to remember. I didn't want him to know.

Gently, I open the book and read the inscription.

_To Kate,  
><em>_Never let the world get you down.  
><em>_Richard Castle_

I follow the line of the _R_ carefully so as not to smudge the ink. When he had signed the book, he was just another celebrity to me, like Neil Patrick Harris from _Doogie Howser, M.D._, or Lance Hastings from _Temptation Lane_ – he was a figure I admired and I looked up at, but never thought in a million years that I would meet him, let alone become best friends with him. So much has changed since that cold morning, but one thing that hasn't changed is Rick's ability to say everything in one sentence.

I finish my Chinese food while reading. I start in the middle, because I know the story so well that I no longer have to start from the beginning. I laugh briefly at the inaccuracy of it and am glad when I think about how Nikki Heat is a little more true to life. I am just at the point where Derrick is chasing some diplomat's daughter to save her from mass gunmen when the doorbell rings. I set down my food and unfold myself from the couch.

"Who is it?" I call through the intercom.

"Me," comes a voice I would recognize in a crowd of a million.

"Go away, Castle, I'll see you later tonight."

"No, I'm not leaving until you let me in."

"Castle, no, this is my day. I want to be alone."

"I'm sorry, Beckett, I can't let you do that."

"Castle, I'm not having this fight over an intercom."

"Then let me in, and we can talk about it."

I sigh. He's incorrigible.

"Fine."

I let him in and waiting at the door, anxiously. This is the first time that I have let anyone except my father into this day. I am apprehensive. I want to let him in, but I am afraid. Then again, Rick has seen me in my darkest times, but still, this is something different entirely. I just hope that we don't get into a huge fight. I don't want to fight today.

I do not have time to think about it, because before I can collect myself, there is a knock on my door. I unlock it slowly, giving myself another moment.

"Hey Castle," I say, ducking my head.

"Hey. Here, I got these for you," he tells me, handing me a bouquet of blood red roses. I shrink away from them automatically.

Roses were the flowers at her funeral. Roses were her flowers. Ever since the funeral, I have not bought a rose. They are my least favorite flower.

"What are you doing?" I ask, backing away. I feel the tears welling up in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

"I noticed that you never liked roses, so I assumed they had something to do with your mother. I thought we would go to the cemetery and you can introduce me to her."

I feel a couple tears make paths down my cheeks. I take a deep, shaking breath and wipe at my eyes. I see him advance towards me, and I take a step back. I don't want him near me. I don't want him to be here.

"Castle, please leave."

"Kate, it's okay, you can cry. You're not alone anymore."

I try to step back again but am stopped by the couch hitting the back of my legs. Rick comes and envelopes me in his strong arms. I fight it. I hold myself stiffly, not letting myself make a sound. Silent tears are rushing down my cheeks, and I cannot stop them.

"Shh, please Kate, let me in."

I take a shuddering breath. I feel the love from him flowing through the hug. I feel the pain he feels at seeing me so sad. I feel that our bodies, minds, and hearts are in complete sync. I have never felt closer, emotionally or physically, to anyone in my life. The feelings I have been trying to suppress towards Rick are surfacing and there is nothing I can do to stop it. It is rushing through my brain like the blood pumping through my veins. I realize that the feelings, the love, I have for Rick is as natural and as part of me as my blood. There is no point in resisting it anymore. It is pulling me under. I have to succumb.

I let myself fall into his hug. The feeling of finally allowing myself to welcome his embrace is overwhelming. I take a moment to relish in the moment. I smell his cologne – apples, cedar, and something uniquely Castle – and feel comforted. I feel his strong arms holding me up, as my legs gave out the moment I reciprocated the hug. One of his hands is gently stroking my hair, while the other is surely at my lower back, holding me up. I feel glad. For the first time on the anniversary of my mother's death, I feel glad.

Perhaps today really will be the day I tell him that I heard his confession.

"Shh, Kate, let it out," he says gently, stroking my hair. I bury my face in his chest and let the tears come. I let years of anguish pour out, now that I have someone to be there for me as I go through it, it is easier to let my emotions take hold. I know that as far as my emotions take me, Rick will be there to wheel me back in.

He scoops me up and I squeak in surprise. He sits on the couch and sets me next to him. He fumbles me for a moment, and I assume it is because he cannot decide whether to place me on his lap or next to him. I am glad he chooses the latter.

I curl into his side and he pulls me closer, if that is possible. My body shakes and heaves with sobs. I have not cried harder than this since the days immediately after my mother's passing. I feel every pent up emotion pouring out. I think of days that I have not dwelled upon on years. I cry for the trying times I went through at the academy. I cry for the frustration I feel at my inability to close my mother's case. I cry for the emotional toll my job takes on me. I cry for the pain that Royce and Sorenson gave me. I cry for all the times when I was too stubborn to let myself feel. Years of tears flood from my body, and all the while, Castle sits there, stroking my hair and back, whispering encouraging words to me. He rocks me gently back and forth. I think I feel him kiss my hair. For the first time in years, I feel that I can let everything out.

We sit like that for close to an hour. My tears eventually stop and I almost fall asleep, worn out by the emotional turmoil of the day. I lift my head from his chest and brush the remaining tears from my face. I pull my hair into a messy bun and look at Rick for the first time, really since he came.

He is looking at me with such intensity that I immediately duck my head. It seems as though I can see into his soul through his eyes. I know for sure now that he loves me. I can see it in his eyes as clear as day.

I am not a vain person. I care how I look in public, but that is mostly just so I can have the respect as a female cop that I deserve. I never thought of myself as materialistic. The only things I splurge on are heels and coats, but for good reason. I need them both. Seeing the way Rick is looking at me makes me embarrassed. I wish that he couldn't see me so broken apart. My shyness is so ridiculous that I begin to laugh.

"I probably look terrible," I say. "And I got your shirt all wet."

He laughs. "Don't worry about the shirt. I brought an extra one." I shake my head in disbelief and slap him in the chest.

"But seriously," he continues, sobering up. "You've never looked more beautiful." It's cliché, but it makes my heart flutter. I am brought back to the night we spent in LA. He is looking at me in the same way. "Thank you for letting me in."

"You didn't leave me much choice," I joke.

"I'm your partner. That's my job."

Now we're both laughing. He is so good at changing my mood from solemn to not, but in a good way. He knows his boundaries – most of the time.

"So what do you say, Kate? Will you introduce me to your mother?"

I smile. I'm glad he wants to meet her.

"Sure. Let me quickly wash my face," I say, getting up from the couch. He gets up with me and catches me when I wobble from sitting for too long.

"I'll be here."

I smile once more and make my way to my bed room.

* * *

><p>I watch as Kate retreats to her room. She is so beautiful, and I am so glad she let into such a private moment. I look down at my shirt and laugh lightly at the fact that the front is soaking wet from her tears. As gross as it is, I decide that I will never wash this shirt. No, I want to keep a memento of the first time Kate allowed me to share her grief.<p>

I reach into my bag and pull out a fresh shirt. I quickly change, not wanting to be caught in her living room with my shirt off. With the new flannel all buttoned up, I take a moment to look around. Her apartment looks slightly more messy than usual, but I assumed that it was because of the day. There were some spaces clearly missing on the bookshelf. One with the photo albums and the other in the mystery section. I recognize that surrounding the empty spaces are my book jackets. I would recognize them anyway. I immediately begin to look for the missing books. I want to know which ones she was reading. I could probably just go over and check which were on her shelf, but that would take too much work.

I look around and I see _Flowers for Your Grave_ upside-down on the counter. I flip it to see where she was and smiled at the scene. I place a napkin the book to act as a book mark, and I close it. I open the front cover to see if I signed it and am shocked to see not _From the Library of Katherine Beckett_, but rather _Johanna Beckett, 1999_ scrawled in the top right corner. Now it all makes sense. She is reading the book that helped her through her mother's murder. Sure she had never told me explicitly that that was the truth, but I could guess.

I take a moment to appreciate the irony that it was this book that brought us together.

Without thinking, I open the book to the dedication page. _To Alexis, my rock. _This was just around the time when Meredith was leaving us. Alexis was bring strong for both of us. At such a young age she was still far wiser than her years.

I take stock of the room, looking for the second book that should be on the shelf. I find it on the couch near where Kate and I were sitting earlier. I pick it up and see that it is Derrick Storm. I know immediately that it is the one that I signed to her all those years ago. I can see that it has been read tens, maybe hundreds of times. I'm opening the front cover to double check that it is the one that I signed when Kate's door opened.

"What are you doing?" she asks, rushing to me, pulling the book from my hands.

"I signed that, right?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I remember." I close my eyes and try to remember what I wrote. "Uhh, To Kate. Never let the world get your down. Right?"

"You remember that?"

"Of course I do, Kate. It was the first time I met you." She looks at me like I am crazy. "How could you have forgotten? You looked so broken and sad. I was almost relieved when I saw you at my book launch party. The haunted look at left for the most part."

"You never mentioned that you remembered me."

"I didn't want to embarrass you. I know how you feel about being considered a groupie."

"I am not a groupie," she protests.

"Uh huh, sure. Look, Kate, I don't remember very many books that I sign, but I remembered yours because you looked like you would actually read the book. You were different. You were real. And I definitely do real."

She smiles, remembering when she had said that she didn't think I did real. I had been too wrapped up in seeing Kyra again to disagree with her.

"Let's go," she says, taking the bouquet of roses and leading me out the door. I put the book on the counter as we leave. Mother and Daughter, reunited.

* * *

><p>The drive to the cemetery is quiet. I am still apprehensive about sharing this moment with Rick. I never intended him to be here. It has always been private. I don't like to advocate that I am one of those people who thinks that it is beneficial to talk to a grave. I know that my mother can't hear me, but there is something comforting about talking uninhibitedly.<p>

Rick isn't speaking, which is a relief. Now is not a time for him to be making wise cracks or anything. He understands that this is a moment just for me.

We pull up at the cemetery, and I take a moment to collect myself. I take a whiff of the roses and cringe. I do not like the smell of them. Too sweet. Too perfect. I walk ahead of Rick. He follows behind close enough that I know he's there, but far enough that I can have a private moment. We pass a bench and he takes out a pad of paper and sits down. I continue on for two minutes, reading my mother's head stone. I feel tears beginning to fall again, and I don't wipe them away.

Gently, I set the flowers at the base of her headstone.

_Johanna Beckett  
>4.13.1955-1.9.1999<em>

_In matters of truth and justice, there is no difference between large and small problems, for issues concerning the treatment of people are all the same. –Albert Einstein_

I finger the letters of her name. I sit slowly on the ground, not minding that it is hard and cold.

"Hi Mom," I say quietly. "I miss you a lot. So much has happened this year. I got closer to solving your case. I know a lot more now. Still, like you said, with every revelation comes a price. This price was death. My captain died at the hands of one of the henchmen involved in your case. But don't worry, they are all incarcerated or dead. But let's talk about something happier, how about that?

"Remember Rick? I told you about him last year. You were right. I am in love with him. I finally let him in today. He's here, you know. He wants to meet you. He's giving me some space before I introduce you. I know you'd love him. He's everything that you thought he was and more. But the best part, Mom, is that he loves me, too. We're so different, yet so similar. We balance each other out. Just like you and Dad.

"Dad is doing okay. He misses you more than he shows, but it must run in the family, right? We both wish you were here with us. You would be proud of him. He's so much better than he was even last year. We also spend more time together. I'm finally learning to forgive him for abandoning me after you left. I'm glad I am. It's good to have him back in my life. He'll probably come by soon to talk to you.

"Oh, so Rick and I had a case a couple weeks ago with a sniper. I got major PTSD, but you know how it is. I had my team to talk to me about it. They really helped me through. I don't think I could have done it without them. They were there for me every step of the way. We cracked the case. We caught the guy. It felt good. I only wish they could do the same for the guy who shot me. It was in a place just like this one."

The moment I say that, I can feel hints of PTSD come about. I look around for any glimmer of a scope, but don't see one. I know in my mind that there won't be, but I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me. But then I remember. Rick is here. Watching me.

"I'm healing, Mom. I'm seeing a therapist. He said that he can help me get through this. He said that he can help me move past your murder, even if I don't solve the case. I wish that that were enough though. I know I can get through it eventually, but someday, I'm going to have to close this case. Mom, it's my life. I've based by career on it. It's defined me. I don't know who I am without it."

I hear footsteps behind me and I feel Rick sit beside me.

"How are you doing?" he asks, not touching me. I almost wish he would.

"All right, considering," I say. I find it easier to talk to him with my mother there.

"So is this she?"

"Yeah. Mom, I'd like you to meet Rick. Castle, meet my Mom, Johanna."

"A pleasure. I wish that I could meet you in person," says Castle. I can almost swear I hear the wind answer. _Me too_.

"Is there anything you want to tell her?" I ask.

"Mrs. Beckett," Rick begins. He looks at me for confirmation that it is okay to call her that. I nod for him to continue. "I just want you to know how proud I am of your daughter. She is the strongest woman I know. What she goes through every day is more than I could handle in a year. She is a damned good cop, too. She'd make you proud. She always gets the bad guy. Did you know her Homicide team has the highest closure rate? Of course you did, I'm sure she told you." Rick looks at me, smiling. I smile back, happy that he is falling back into his charming self.

"Her passion for her work is remarkable. Her drive for justice is beyond compare. She is truly extraordinary."

"Thank you, Rick," comes a voice from behind us. We both turn around to see my father standing about five feet away, carrying his own bunch of red roses.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," says Rick, standing up and allowing my father to step towards my mother's headstone.

"Don't sweat it. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

"Could you give me a minute, please?" asks my father. Rick nods and pulls me to my feet. As we pass my father, he gives me a hug and a kiss on the head.

"He loves you, Katie. Don't let him go."

"I won't," I whisper back.

* * *

><p>Rick and I are sitting on the bench where Rick had waited for me before. We're sitting close, but not quite touching. I let the breeze rustle my hair. Subconsciously, I lean to my right and rest my head on his shoulder. He reaches over and takes my hands in his. We sit like that for a few minutes, enjoying the silence.<p>

I want to tell him that I remember everything. This is as good a time as any. I know Mom likes him, and my father certainly doesn't want me to wait. I think that I am ready. Sure, we have a lot of things we still need to work through, and we'll never be "the perfect couple," but hey, we'll be pretty darn close.

I think about the past year. About everything that had happened. We kissed. We nearly died together. We fought. We made up. We went to Montgomery's funeral. I got shot. We broke our friendship and partnership. We joined forces again. We almost faced 3XK again. We got through my crippling PTSD. And those were only the big things. There were so many others that were just moments.

Rick and I have come so far. I remember the first day I met him at his book party. He was an immature nine-year-old on a sugar rush. I could never imagine what it would be like to work with him for an extended period of time. But now look where we are. Sitting together, like a couple, me, about to tell him that I had been lying for months.

I think about how I felt in his arms earlier when he was comforting me. That is what I want it to feel like for the rest of my life. I can see growing old together. I can see raising a family together. I can see the future with him.

He is my One and Done.

"Rick," I say quietly. I'm still not sure how to approach this.

"What is it, Kate?"

I take a deep breath. "I lied to you. Before."

"About what?" he asks, moving away slightly.

Then I say them. The three words I promised myself I would never tell anyone.

"I remember everything."

He sits there in silence. He doesn't move. He hardly breathes. I wait for him to say something. I wait for him to work it out in his mind.

"Rick," I say after five minutes of silence. I can almost see the gears working in his head. I reach for his clasped hands. He pulls them out of reach.

"Wait," he says. "Are you telling me that you've lied to me for months?"

"Yes," I say, being frank. "And I'm sorry."

"So you remember everything."

"Yes."

"I, um, wow. This is a lot to process. Give me a minute, okay?" he asks. I non and turn to face forward. I intertwine my hands, waiting for him to answer.

* * *

><p>She remembers. She remembers everything. She remembers that I love her. She's been lying to me.<p>

My first emotion is excitement. She remembers! We can be happy together. We can really be together. She knows I love her, and it is clear that she loves me. It also clears up some of her behavior is the past months – all the teasing and how much more open she's been about her sexuality and femininity.

Then is anger. How could she have kept something this important from me from months? How could she let me go around thinking that she didn't remember. Always treading of eggshells so I didn't conjure up any memories. Always being careful with what I said so I didn't upset her. When all this time, she knew. She knew how I felt.

Then is despair. I don't know what to do. Should I be mad at her? Should I accept it and move on? Can I trust her in the future? That is a stupid question. I know that Kate wouldn't mess with my feelings just for the fun of it. I'm sure she has a good reason. But still. I do not know what to do.

I look at her. She looks worried about my answer. I can't let her down today. Tonight is Ryan's wedding and we are going as each other's plus ones. We're at her mother's grave. She introduced me to her. She let me in on a private time of her life. I don't feel it is right to say that I am upset. But I cannot be unfair to my own feelings. I am in a rock and a hard place.

I decide to go for it. It doesn't matter. Kate and I can get through anything if we try hard enough. We're both stubborn, but we can do it.

I'm her One and Done.

"Kate," I say. She looks at me. My heart breaks at the fear I see in her eyes. "I'm upset you didn't tell me—" she hides her face in her hands. I pull them away. "No, listen to me. I'm upset you didn't tell me, but that's not going to stop me from trying this. Kate, I said it before, under much more dire circumstances, but I'm going to say it again, because it's worth it. You're worth it.

"Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate."

* * *

><p>He uses the same phrasing as he did that warm May day. I feel tears welling up in my eyes, but this time, they are tears of happiness.<p>

He takes my hands in his and I feel their warmth. I know that this is love that will stay.

"I love you, too, Rick," I say, my voice thick with tears.

Rick moves his hands from mine and place them on my cheeks. He pulls me towards him and I meet him half way. This kiss is not rushed. This kiss is not urgent. It is slow, passionate, and full of promise.

The promise of today. The promise of tomorrow. The promise of forever.

Who knew three little words could mean so much?

* * *

><p><strong>Well there you go. I hope you enjoyed that. I don't have much to say other than I wanted to show that Kate is a lot more open with her mother than with anyone else. Something special.<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed tonight's episode...Third time's the charm, eh?  
>Have a great week,<br>mangotango101 **


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